


Sleeping Beauty, or the Unconscious Man on the Bed

by lucathia



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Future Fic, Gen, What-If, aftermath fic, word count: 1000-5000 - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-23
Updated: 2011-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-27 22:34:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/300774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucathia/pseuds/lucathia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This had become a daily routine for the silver-haired boy, as essential as eating and sleeping. The man on the bed never responded, but the silver-haired boy had grown used to having a silent and unresponsive audience.</p><p>Sort of deals with the aftermath of chapter 307.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleeping Beauty, or the Unconscious Man on the Bed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [celestialskiff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestialskiff/gifts).



"Is he here again? What a tenacious boy..."

Hands in the pockets of his pants, a silver-haired boy sauntered through the corridors of the hospital. After grabbing himself a soda, he returned to his vigil inside the room Leorio and Kurapika always tried to chase him from, but even _he_ hadn't denied him from visiting, so who were Leorio and Kurapika to command him?

Sipping his drink, the boy watched "Sleeping Beauty." He was pale, his hair unbearably long. If he were to sit up, his long, black hair would pool across the bed and cascade down the sides, like wispy tendrils of ink splaying across pale sheets. As it was now, he slept on his hair in a tangled mess. It didn't look very comfortable.

The silver-haired boy leaned back in his chair and recounted his day to the unconscious man on the bed, complete with large hand motions as well as mimicries of a myriad of voices. He pitched his voice a little higher to imitate Canary, hands twisting as if he were twirling a rod, Canary's weapon of choice. Then, he changed his voice yet again, mimicking Leorio's loud and rough voice, head lifted in the air. One by one, he acted out the people he'd met and interacted with that day, from friends to relatives to strangers.

Throughout his vivid retelling, the man on the bed slept.

This had become a daily routine for the silver-haired boy, as essential as eating and sleeping. The man on the bed never responded, but the silver-haired boy had grown used to having a silent and unresponsive audience. Sometimes, he wondered if all he wanted was to have someone to talk to who wouldn't tell him what he was supposed to do (such as doing anything else but wasting his time in this hospital room, except he was _curious_ ), who would listen to him talk without judging him. The silver-haired boy kind of liked watching the unconscious man that was so important to _him_. It made him ponder about what-ifs, about lost chances, about lifelong friends. If he observed longer, he might even finally come to an understanding about him. He was so hard to understand, but if there was one thing the silver-haired boy was sure about, it was the fact that this unconscious man on the bed mattered more to him than anyone else in the entire world.

Today was like any other day. The boy blabbered on, eager to talk about himself and his day. As he chattered, he watched the unconscious man on the bed with keen eyes. He always watched intently, which was why the slightest motion was enough to halt the silver-haired boy in the midst of his story.

He could've sworn he saw the man's fingers twitch, just like how fiction always depicted comatose patients waking up with a dramatic focus on twitching fingers. The silver-haired boy's eyes flicked towards those long, bony fingers. This wasn't another false alarm, was it? He hoped not! He'd wanted to see the unconscious man wake up for much too long to have his hopes dashed again. He'd almost thought the man would never wake.

With bated breath, the silver-haired boy watched as "Sleeping Beauty" slowly opened his eyes, lashes fluttering.

Not a false alarm!

His chair clattered loudly as he hurriedly got up, intent on flying out the door.

"Killua?" The man on the bed croaked weakly.

That stopped the silver-haired boy in his tracks, causing his heart to beat crazily, like it was about to leap out of his throat, but he didn't turn around.

The bed rustled.

"I'm..." the man said. "I'm sorry...so sorry..."

At that, the silver-haired boy gave up on escaping through the door, turning around just in time to see two wet trails trickling down the man's cheeks before the man turned his face away, his eyes fluttering close. The man's chest heaved with emotion.

"I'm so sorry..." he repeated, his voice small and cracking with disuse. "But Kite, and Pitou...I was so angry and sad and..."

Exhaling softly, a wry grin came over the silver-haired boy's face. The silver-haired boy righted his chair, sat down once again, and grasped one of the man's large but skinny hands in his own. Despite how many times he had kept vigil by this man's bedside, he didn't often hold the man's hand, as that hindered his storytelling, but it seemed that his storytelling had come to an end. Now, the unconscious man, no, the no-longer-unconscious man on the bed, would never need stories told to him again. He could live his own instead of staying suspended in time.

"Hey, you woke up," the silver-haired boy said lightly in response to the man's apology. "Now, stop the manly tears. I'm gonna call a doctor."

* * *

The man who'd finally woken up thought himself to be a boy, _was_ mentally a boy no older than the silver-haired boy who had kept vigil by his bedside without fail all this time, but his outer appearance couldn't be further away from that of a boy's.

He was, in every physical sense, a man, no matter how much he wasn't mentally, his face sharp and angular and gaunt. This was the price he'd paid in exchange for power beyond his years, for using up all of his potential in one go. He should have died, he'd been prepared to die, but he had not.

Doctors and nurses shuffled into the room to examine the now-awake patient, poking and prodding and examining the man, declaring his sudden waking to be a miracle. The man answered questions freely though not without a hint of sorrow, hinting at a personality that used to be carefree and trusting but had somehow gotten shaken up along the way.

The silver-haired boy excused himself.

"You'll be back, right?" the man asked from the bed.

"Of course," the silver-haired boy answered.

Of course.

* * *

"He's awake?" exclaimed a tall man who was wearing a neat, blue suit. "You should've told me sooner!"

The silver-haired boy rolled his eyes.

The tall man was practically running through the corridors. "Oh man, I can't believe this! It's a miracle! Wait until Kurapika hears! Wait until he hears!"

As they ran down the corridors and got scolded by the nurses (though the nurses did cut them a lot of slack, as the tall man was a well-liked doctor that the nurses liked to flirt with for some reason that the silver-haired boy couldn't fathom), the tall man spoke some more, unable to contain his general excitement.

"So how'd he react to you?" the tall man asked in genuine curiosity. He gathered it had to be somewhat shocking.

Sticking his hands into his pockets, the silver-haired boy nonchalantly replied, "Oh, you know, he kind of thought I was..."

The silver-haired boy spoke quickly and then decided to plug his ears with his fingers.

"He thought WHAT? And you didn't correct him?" yelled the tall man loudly, completely forgetting they were in a hospital with lots of patients who needed peace and quiet. The nurses shook their heads at this, much too used to Dr. Leorio Paladiknight's loud and lively nature.

Shrugging the silver-haired boy merely said, "The timing was bad."

He couldn't deny he was also a little curious, but it was mostly bad timing, and the man had looked like he didn't need everything piled on him all at once. After all, he did just wake up from some comatose state that even the doctors had thought he'd never recover from.

The tall man sighed. "Fine, but this can't go on."

* * *

The reunion between the man on the bed and the tall man was a happy one. The silver-haired boy stayed out of it, opting to stand just outside the door but close enough to hear the conversation inside.

"Ehhhh, you're a doctor already, Leorio?"

"What's with the disbelief, huh?"

"I'm just really impressed!"

The tall man's voice took on a proud tone. "It's just as we promised, Gon. Remember how you said that the next time you saw me, you expected me to be a doctor already? Well, here I am!"

"Wow, congratulations. I know it was your dream."

"Thanks Gon...but why do you sound so sad?"

"Sad...? Oh, I kind of just wish I could've been there to see you become a doctor. Sorry I wasn't there. I seem to be apologizing a lot. I'm sorry, Leorio."

* * *

The tall man came out of the room with a funny expression on his face. The silver-haired boy was on the phone with Kurapika, spreading the good news. Seeing the funny expression on the tall man's face, the silver-haired boy cupped the receiver of his cell phone.

"What?" asked the silver-haired boy, one eyebrow lifted.

"I don't think he knows," the tall man answered, "how much time has passed."

The silver-haired boy snickered. "You've always looked old anyway. No change. No wonder he couldn't tell."

"What's this about looking old?" came Kurapika's voice over the phone. The silver-haired boy hadn't been able to keep the conversation from drifting over to Kurapika even with his hand on the receiver end, so he gave up altogether.

"Leorio looks old," the silver-haired boy replied. He then explained the current situation.

"Maybe we shouldn't tell him right away?" wondered the tall man, his eyebrows furrowed. He'd never have considered this, but after meeting with Gon, he thought not telling might be less cruel. At least until after he recovered to the point where he could take care of himself again.

"Ah," Kurapika said. "I think both of you are wrong. Gon's very perceptive. He can even tell Kiriko apart when such unfamiliar magical beasts all look the same to us. Remember our Hunter exams, Leorio?"

"You mean he knows?" asked the silver-haired boy curiously. "Even though he must be kinda confused after sleeping so long?"

"Yes," came the reply. "He may have been a little confused right after waking up, but after his initial confusion, there's no way he'd mistake his best friend."

* * *

The silver-haired boy entered the room once again and perched himself on the chair next to the bed.

"You're back," said the man that the silver-haired boy had always thought of as "Sleeping Beauty", unconscious under an enchanted sleep, suspended in time, except unlike the fairy tale, the world around him had not stayed suspended in time, and the man himself had not either, not physically at least.

"Yeah, I'm back," the silver-haired boy replied. "And Kurapika just told me that _you know_."

The man who was still a boy on the inside wished this wasn't the reality he'd woken up to, but this was the price he'd paid for his brashness and stupidity. He was so sorry to his friends and especially to Killua. Sorry would never be enough for all the years he'd missed, all the years of loneliness he'd subjected his best friend to. What a friend he'd been.

"I know," the man said quietly, quiet enough that the silver-haired boy had to lean closer to hear. "I know that you're not Killua."

"Wow, you really do know," the silver-haired boy exclaimed, impressed. He leaned back in his chair to re-evaluate the man in front of him. He'd only ever known of Gon through stories and through watching him sleep the years away, unconscious on this hospital bed, but now the man was awake in front of him. Awake and speaking. Gon didn't know him, but he was able to tell he wasn't Killua despite their physical similarities. Like Kurapika had claimed, Gon was _perceptive_.

"I'm Gon," the man introduced himself. "I feel twelve and know I look older, which I thought was because of how I'd aged instantly when I fought against...Pitou...but now I know that's not the case. Someone must have cured me, but I continued sleeping....how long have I slept?"

"Eighteen years," the silver-haired boy answered. "Oh, and I'm Tollue, by the way, Killua's son. My old man should be on his way."

"Killua's son?" the man on the bed exclaimed, eyes wide even though he had prepared himself for this when he realized the person in front of him wasn't his best friend. Like the silver-haired boy had expected, the man's hair was pooling about him and falling off the bed. It was long enough to trip over. "I can't believe Killua already has a son! You look my age. That's kinda surreal...eighteen years, huh, I guess a lot of stuff must've happened in eighteen years. What else have I missed? Killua's a dad..."

* * *

Tollue had been wrong when he thought his storytelling had come to an end. This time, however, Tollue's stories had a responsive audience. Instead of recounting what had happened recently, Tollue reached farther back. Gon had missed a lot. Tollue also made sure that his old man featured in all of the stories because clearly his old man was who Gon was the most curious about. Watching Gon's reactions, Tollue could kinda understand why his old man thought the world of Gon.

Gon clearly thought the world of his old man too.

He told Gon about how his old man had finally taken over the family business, about how he'd been expected to have an heir. That was how Tollue had come to be. Tollue was a transmuter just like his old man, his grandpa, and his great-grandpa. Someday, he'd take over the family business too. His old man had long waited for that day.

"Killua took over the family business?" wondered Gon. "But he never wanted it..."

Tollue shrugged. "He never wanted it, but there was nothing else going on for him in his life either. Not with you sleeping through half his life."

Gon winced, his super long hair hiding his expression. Killua's son was _blunt_. Definitely Killua's son.

"So how's Killua as a dad?" Gon asked. He couldn't imagine himself as a dad. He couldn't imagine the Killua he knew as a dad. They had both been mischief-making material back then, certainly not _dad_ material, but Killua had always been the logical one who sometimes seemed older than his years. What kind of dad was Killua? Gon had never met his own.

Tollue had plenty to say about that. He'd thought his old man to be cold-hearted until someone let slip Gon's existence. That was when Tollue had taken to visiting Gon, curious about this unconscious man that had such a huge hold on his dad. His old man had frowned, but he hadn't ever forbidden Tollue from visiting.

In the midst of Tollue's storytelling, Gon suddenly looked up, eyes staring far past Tollue's shoulders.

"I take it my old man is here?" the silver-haired boy asked in amusement.

The man Tollue had always thought of as Sleeping Beauty smiled. It was a wide, uncontainable smile that spoke of immense joy, vastly different from the blank expressions Tollue had gotten used to from all his observations of the sleeping man. So this was Gon.

"Killua!" Gon exclaimed in delight, his entire face lighting up. It made him look younger.

In a few strides, Tollue's dad crossed the room and enveloped his best friend in a tight hug. His dad held on as if his life depended on it, Gon's long black hair tangling his arms, contrasting sharply with his shock of silver hair.

"Gon..."

Tollue quietly closed the door behind him.


End file.
